Hello friends!

In light of a recent game (matchid: 104435770), I thought I’d share a bit of wisdom with you all. Hopefully, this will brighten up your day a little bit and make the repeated traumatic evisceratings that await you that much less horrible.

Best advice I can give is never ever ever play this bastard:

If you’ve recently made a pass at your team captain’s girlfriend and are thus forced to play the frosty pinata, buckle up. It’s going to get rough.

First, the other team is going to look something like this:

Now, I know what you’re thinking: "Regnen, that’s a terrible team! Where’s the teamfight potential, the push, the other such things that you need to win a game!?"

And to this I say, This is not about winning the game. This is about killing the Glacius.

A lot.

After BreakyCPK announces the start of the game, all of your friends are going to purchase items that will help them stay alive—you will not. The task of outfitting the team chicken with wings (wtf!) falls to you, as well as buying eyes on sticks. They will not thank you for this. You will get no love (spoiler, you get no love throughout this story). But god help the Glacius that doesn’t buy wards.

OK! We’ve made it to the laning phase, and you are already behind. For one thing, you’re really freaking cold. For another, you have no items, and if you are not allowed to get any Creep kills (Those are for the carry! Bad Glacius!), depending on how pissed off your team captain is, you are going to end up in a bad way.

Perhaps you go against Devourer and your slow ass will be dragged into the tower while your carry mutters noob just loud enough for you to hear. Forget that you have no boots and will get no boots any time soon, and you are made of ice and named after glaciers; he (or she!) expects you to dodge hooks like a ballet dancer.

Or you get Scout and Plague, and if you think they won’t dive your tower and give up a double tap just to taste the FIRST BLOOD flowing through your frosty veins, you obviously haven’t been paying attention.

And no matter what happens, like the abnormally sweaty kid in high school checking out the prom queen, Parasite only has eyes for you. Sure, Glacius can freeze those minions for a long time, and sure those eye-sticks you bought at the beginning of the game will give you a bit of time.

I’ll even admit that you, random HoNizen, are a much better player than I.

But death is coming, and it makes a weird squishy sound when it hits you.

Now for teamfights! Where the game is won or lost, where all your hard work throughout the game pays off. Of course, your “hard work” during the game was 10% screaming, crying, and running from the real heroes on the other team, and 90% dying and being dead while your carry farms not five yards from your corpse.

But it’s worth it, right? You kept your carry alive, gave your mid Rune control, and let everyone else on your team buy items and become ferocious killing machines! And you’d think in return, they would acknowledge this and carry you on their shoulders to victory.

You would, of course, be wrong.

Every support player (or bitch, as they are so kindly known) knows what I’m talking about. The instant a teamfight is started, the Glacius will die. Parasite will completely ignore Magebane and ult/codex you. Never mind that the farmed Magebane is rolling downhill towards victory—they want YOU to die.

The enemy team will run right through the gauntlet of hardasses that comprises your team to get to you. I’m not sure if S2 made the announcements for getting a kill just too damn good, if the other team has a pathological fear of ice-people (you know, like I have of clowns), or they have some deep-seated subconscious desire to sabotage themselves, but they will use everything they have to f*** you up!

“Stay in the back!” you say.

“Hide in the trees!” you say.

“Stop talking to your computer!” I say in reply.

I’ve stayed in the back. I’ve hidden in the trees. And I’ve had Scout find me. I’ve had Witch Slayer PK into certain death just to shoot me in the freaking face. I’ve had every sort of high damage ultimate and suicidal assault and silence and stun and straight up killification in the game rammed down my throat no matter what I do.

And yes, my team then proceeds to win the game. Magebane gets to look like a god among mortals with his 47-0, and the rest of my team is rocking gold-plated Hellflowers and Portal Keys.

We celebrate our victory and hop right into the queue again. But deep inside my poor Glacius soul, I know it’s coming again. I know that nothing I do will stop it. I am frozen, not just by my own icy form, but from fear.

The game counts down.


And the Grim Reaper waits, a smile on his bony face. Asshole.

So when you’re watching the next HoN Tour matches, send up a prayer for that poor sonofabitch playing Glacius.

He needs it.

- David "Regnen" Austin